


They Cannot Touch Me

by copper_head



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: Comfort Sex, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Ghosts, Mental Health Issues, Non-Explicit Sex, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 02:10:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21312460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copper_head/pseuds/copper_head
Summary: Max stays at the Citadel and after a few quiet days, his ghosts' whispers get louder again. There is only one person that can make the dead shut up, if only for a moment.
Relationships: Furiosa/Max Rockatansky
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	They Cannot Touch Me

**Author's Note:**

> A quick one-shot with no actual plot - Max needs a hug and Furiosa gives him that and a little bit more. Also, my first try at writing any sort of sexual content.

The dead grow louder.

They are rarely silent, rarely leave him alone, but Max has noticed that during the time he spends at the Citadel the ghosts tend to keep to the edges of his vision, whispering in the darkness just before dawn rather than screaming at him. It was fairly quiet this time, too – for almost full eighteen days – before they started to appear more often again, both in his dreams and the passages of the Citadel.

Furiosa knows. She knows him, and she would notice how his eyes dart to the corners of the rooms, follow the things she cannot see, even if his nightmares didn’t disturb her sleep. He can see the worry in her eyes, focused on him, after he starts speaking less with words and more with sounds the longer it lasts. On the twenty seventh day since he arrived her concerned attention turns unbearable; Max averts his gaze and flees the garage where they were working on the new War Rig for the last few hours, mumbling an excuse.

Furiosa finds him later in her room – their room by now, Max supposes, as he shares her bed every night. She locks the door behind her, giving him a sense of privacy, unbuckles the prosthetic arm and hangs it up on the wall before sliding down to sit next to him on the bed.

“Tell me what you need,” she tells him, voice low and gentle, even if they both know the answer. He needs to leave. The dead won’t settle until he’s alone with them, until they’re far away from the living, and the empty Wasteland spreads around them once again.

“Tell me what you want,” Furiosa continues, her lips brushing his cheek as she speaks, and Max stares at her lap, unable to lift his gaze. He’ll leave soon, but he’s still here tonight. With her.

He makes a non-committal grunt and turns his head towards her, a wordless plea that Furiosa answers with a kiss, deep and thorough. Max angles himself better, so he can put his arms around her, groans into Furiosa’s mouth as she slides her hand into his hair. She’s strong and solid and warm under his hands as he strokes across her back. Real.

They stay like this, kissing slowly and barely moving, before Furiosa draws back slightly, eyes darker and breaths shallower now. She slides her hand down to push his jacket off his shoulders and reaches for her own clothes right after, efficient as ever. Max follows, seeking warm, scarred skin of her sides, and they strip each other without hurry. He keeps his underwear on, though, and shakes his head when Furiosa slips her fingers beneath the hem of his shirt. She doesn’t mind the tattoo on his back, likes the way he looks, but Max doesn’t think he can take having her eyes on him today.

Furiosa gets up to change into her sleeping clothes then, the thin shirt and shorts, even if it’s still early. She’s back with him again as soon as she’s done, stroking his sides through the fabric. His hands wander too, up to the back of her neck and down to her tight. He ducks his head to reach her throat, to nibble at the skin there and feel the vibrations against his tongue when Furiosa lets out an appreciative noise.

It takes a few long moments of only that, soothing kisses and comforting contact, for Max to find his voice again.

“I, um,” he mumbles against her collarbone. She asked him to tell her what he wants, he reminds himself. He swallows and tries again. “I want to eat you out.”

Furiosa coaxes him to raise his head, eyes warm, and kisses him again before she lets go, so Max can slide to the floor and kneel between her spread thighs. She lifts her hips, helping him to pull her shorts down and off her legs. Once he has them out of his way, Max presses close, mouths at that bit of softness below Furiosa’s navel and lower, down to her heat.

For the short stretch of time between that moment and one Furiosa comes, Max sees and hears and feels nothing but her – her sighs and moans, hard muscles and soft skin of her thigh over his shoulder.

“Come here, let me touch you,” Furiosa sighs above him eventually, her fingers tugging at his hair, insistent. Max doesn’t lift his head from where he’s nibbling at her thigh though, but rubs his cheek on the skin there instead, just because he knows she likes the way his beard feels.

He hums quietly, looking up, watches Furiosa’s chest rise and fall with every breath she takes before he meets her eyes. “Later,” Max says, comfortable where he is. His leg hurts a little, and he’s painfully hard, but he realizes he doesn’t really want to do anything about either of these things now. “I could, um. Give you one more?”

Furiosa lets him, and he keeps going until even the slow licks and soft kisses are too much for her. She tugs at his hair again and guides him back to bed with gentle pulls and pushes, reaches for his waistband as soon as he’s stretched out next to her. Max catches her hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles.

“In the morning,” he mutters. He’s sure he’ll be more eager to take his own pleasure once he gets some rest. And it feels like he actually might as he lays there, Furiosa’s taste lingering in the corners of his mouth and her fingers back in his hair, scratching gently at his scalp.

Max closes his eyes, and all he hears is Furiosa's steady breath, her quiet voice as she whispers against his forehead, telling him to sleep, and the beat of her heart, strong and real and alive.


End file.
